One of Us, One of them, One of You
by Guardian of the Nakano
Summary: After Shisui commits suicide, Itachi has to find the resource to keep his sanity through friends he meets in the most unexpected places. Mostly Uke Itachi, multiple pairings Rated M for future situations. Read and review!
1. Prelude

You cradled Dreams like they'd save Your Life

In Your Right hand that Contained Your Strife

You Prayed-that hand that was Shaking in Mine

And we Married beneath the tree that had Died in our Youth

I, Holder of that Strife that You left behind in Soot

And Ashes in my hand after They Cremated You

Cremated Us

Not only You

I only Wish that I had Died too

* * *

-O-

I should have known nothing good would come of falling in love.

Especially with my estranged and suicidal cousin, Shisui.

But...

I guess I've always been a masochist.

Love. All I really know of it is the pain of loss and abandonment.

I don't scream. I don't cry. I bleed, lovingly. I let myself hurt because it's the most fascinating feeling in the world. I succumb to pain, laying in bed as a thrumming ache works its way up into my chest, my heart unresponsive to the threat of bursting. My emotions skirr in lieu of aching tendons when I dare myself to run from the pain. I accept the names bestowed on me by all that I know, "Emo," "Depressing," "A loner."

But I can only ever smile...laugh, and take it on the nose. Because I don't think they'll ever know what it is, exactly, that drives me to such seclusion.

Beautiful...beautiful...beautiful...

He would consistantly chant that beneath his husky breath, esurience dripping like the waterfall that makes the Nakano, where we would hide from the world and pretend ourselves dead.

Do you believe me when I say we would pass the time imagining ways to die together? We would borderline ridiculous, claiming we could scream until polyps formed and grew so large, we suffocated as we held hands beneath an unforgiving, yet witnessing sun. Can someone die from screaming? Probably...if other circumstances took effect. Hemorrhage of the brain, from the stress...that's a way...

But I don't scream...so that's a bother.

We would dream that we could die together, peacefully. Even so, his image of peace was so obscured after the war...after his father perished in war...that his idea of peace was sacrifice, throwing himself into fire to feel warmth...

I will not deny he scared me at times. His eyes always seemed to flicker red in the most inadvertant ways, sidelong glances turning into furious gazes, maddened, harrowed. I would grab his wrists before he could harm himself...or me.

He screamed in the middle of the night, tearing through aphotic silence with rage and desperation, relief from his aching dreams, please, please! he called.

I guess nobody came to call. Nobody responsible enough to have him live.

But I held him anyways. And it hurt.

His nails would dig into my arms like thorns and nails, steely and leaving behind a melancholic twinge of iron, his tears of frustration teeming with angry glances up as I restrained him from his self-harm. Accepting his burden was the least I could do to thank him for all he had done for me when he wasn't caught in his painful nightmares.

I would dream of holding him after he died. I would silently allow myself to afflict and agonize as a razor from nowhere would appear in my hand and tear at my arm neatly, silently raining in the room, my eyes wet and burning with grief. I never realized how much I loved the way his nails would rip my epidermis until it was raw and red, how I missed being able to cry into his soft, unkempt hair as he screamed to nobody who would listen, screamed to all those who had wronged him, "Are you happy now? I want to die! Are you happy now?"

I never did know who he was screaming to.

I wanted to be that person, if only for clarity.

Clarity as to why he would erupt in unbridled rage, swing at everything he could reach, me, included.

It may create a funny image in your mind, a seventeen year old lashing out like a child, throwing himself at a door to escape reality, one who braids rubber bands into a noose, who turns a pencil into a weapon of murder. But I assure you, there is nothing humorous about it in the midst of his rage.

I've had to cover up for bruises and cuts and scars as Mother would ask each's whearabouts. Saying Judo was rough was usually enough to quell her curiosity, though I could always see the maternal anxiety in her eyes as she glanced at me.

I remember the day he died well, despite my desire to forget. I remember the night before even better.

Heat filled the room as each breath he took made me shiver, his tongue on my neck, his hands on my hips, thumbs digging into each with bruising force, enough to make me overflow with pleasure. My toes curled as his voice secluded us into his world, a beautiful one he created where nightmares don't exist, sleep doesn't exist, and the expanse of the ground was silk, the birds crows, the sky violet and red and purple and blue. where the rain was tears and was cold and pleasing and wonderful. Clouds never obscured such light that radiated from nothing.

And after the clock broke midnight to us, we opened our eyes and looked at eachother, smiles etched into perspiry skin. My lips were raw and red, his neck covered in bites and bruises. His shirt was discarded on his desk, and I never did find my belt after that night. We were flushed and tired and hot and happy for a last time. Shisui stared at the ceiling, his smile not wavering as he said, "I've always wanted to die, y'know."

And I could only respond, "I know."

"Yeah...but, you know what I figure? I've never really known _what _it was like to be alive. It's one of those painful revelations that I don't have a real fucking idea what it really means. Not one I can grasp...all the time."

"All the time?"

"Yeah, and I'm gonna be really corny, but...I think you're the closest thing I've ever had to actually being alive...feeling it."

I could only stare as he gazed at me with sincerity.

"And..."

I waited. His sanity was fully intact as he looked me in the eyes one last time and said, quietly, "I'm sorry for everything."

"Don't apologize, Shisui. I love you."

"I know you do. I love you, too. But...in the end...history isn't rewritten because we're in love. Nobody's life changes. Ours do, of course, but it doesn't matter to anyone else, when you think about it," he stared hard at the ceiling, as if all of his answers were there.

"I..." I muttered breathlessly, "I know..."

"But...I don't care about that. We can love eachother, no problem...but it won't change the way I feel about you."

At that point, I was probably as confused as you are now, reading this.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked cautiously, stupidly, regretting the words almost as soon as they left my mouth.

His gaze dropped from the ceiling, his eyes closing as he sighed, quietly, as if he was just too tired to explain.

"One day..." he muttered, folding his hands behind his head, his brows furrowing in sadness. "You'll know."

I'm still trying to figure it out.

* * *

A/N: the t button on my keyboard is current;y broken, as is backspace, so I must paste the t each time, as well as use "Delete" to backspace. Please excuse the length of the chapter and any grammatical errors. Heart Shaped Box is on temp/ Hiatus, but should be back soon, so please be patient. Enjoy!


	2. Chapter 1

Itachi took a long pause at the school that loomed in front of him. Despite being a Junior, without Shisui, Itachi would know nobody. So was the price to pay for being in love with a potentially dangerous maniac, but he had no regrets. Dragging out a long, fearful breath, Itachi fixed a deadpan on his pale face, his hoodie pulled up over his long black hair, clouding his eyes. He started up to the school.

_"It's him!" _

_"He's alone."_

_"Shisui really __**did **__kill himself!"_

Itachi bore his teeth against the ignorance of the generation's youth, simply pulling his hoodie further up, continuing on his painful odyssey to the cafeteria where, hopefully, he could kill a little time in silence. He glanced absentmindedly at the breakfast menu, rolling his eyes. He simply seated himself at an empty table and wished for peace.

_What am I going to do? I hope I don't have group projects in AP literature...Shisui was going to take that class with me...How inconvenient... Maybe I can be paired with some idiot cheerleader who will simply let me do all the work. I would be fi-! _

His hood was suddenly removed from his head, his hair falling forward into his face, a look of surprise etched across his face.

"Nice to see you again, Itachi. Even so, I thought you understood the rule that _I'm_ the only one who can cover my face in school, ne?"

Itachi glanced over his shoulder to see a familiar face...well...eye, peering at him.

"Hello, Kakashi-sensei," he said quietly.

"It's not like my favorite student to sulk about like his younger brother. Care to tell me what's up?" Kakashi seated himself beside the crow-haired teen, giving him a concerned gaze.

"Nothing is up. It was a bit cold was all," he deadpanned.

"I already know about Shisui. Is there any truth behind the rumours?"

"By rumours do you mean that Shisui was crazy and I was tired of him leaning on me so I offed him? No, no truth."

"Ah, such a sense of humour. But you miss him."

"Of course I do. He was my best friend since childhood."

"Yes, but you can endure this. It'll only make you stronger. You can only get stronger, Itachi."

Itachi nodded. "I appreciate it. thank you, Kakashi-sensei."

"Yep. You're taking AP Literature, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Of course. Nothing lower than the highest for you, eh, Itachi?"

"No, Sir."

"I'll see you in third period."

"I have you for study hall again? I'm starting to think that you're doing this on purpose, Kakashi-sensei," Itachi chided good-naturedly.

Kakashi gave him an ambiguous glance, a amicable smile (presumably), and left.

Itachi gave a glimpse of a smile and pulled his thick black hoodie closer to his thin body. His long hair curtained him from view as he sighed quietly. Pulling his sleeves up over his scarred wrists, he gave a small chuckle, wondering what antic Shisui would have put him up to on the first day.

_"Probably would've landed us detention..."_

"Voimmeko istua taalla?"

Itachi looked up to the owner of the deep voiced foreign tongue, meeting steel grey eyes and many piercings. "Beg pardon?"

"Can we sit here. Us," he cocked his head at the group standing behind him.

"Go ahead."

"Don't feel inclined to leave, hn," a blonde with hair lengthy enough to rival Itachi's nodded, plopping down beside a meticulous redhead who brushed his seat off before he sat.

Itachi nodded, choosing to curl within himself slightly as he reached into his bag to find a preoccupation from awkward conversation. He settled on Dante's Inferno, removing his bookmark and perusing the pages. Many of the students who had seated themselves around the table began to converse in foreign tongues, some of which Itachi could only partially identify. Suddenly, "Qual e il tuo nome, corvo?"

"Il mio nome e Itachi," he responded without thinking. "Come fai a sapere parlo Italiano?"

A feminine giggle, and a girl with sapphire blue hair gave him a quick smile, her lips slightly quirked as she spoke, her laberet moving gently as her lips moved. "I saw you listening when we began to speak it, Itachi."

Itachi noticed she spoke a bit slowly, her lips moved slightly to the left, her head inclined towards him gently. She nodded to him and looked down to the styrofoam plate in front of her, "Garbage. Perche non si mangia prima di lasciare casa?"

"Because you were afraid of being late. We were early, you realize?" the pierced teen spoke, his eyes at his plate, though he, in turn, tilted his head to speak to the girl.

"Quod est tua nomen?" Itachi tried.

"Meum est Konan."

"Konan, hm?" the pierced man said, bemused. "Since when do you use that name?"

"I have a good feeling about him," Konan smiled, her words bouncing slightly as she beckoned to Itachi, who looked confused.

"Ne, Tenshi," the blonde called a bit louder than Itachi thought neccessary, "Do you have any sugar, hn?"

To Itachi's surprise, Konan-or Tenshi-pulled a packet of sugar from her black leather purse, emblazoned with a red cloud.

The man who seemed to be the leader of the group spoke, commanding yet strangely familiar. "Introduce yourselves."

"Mi nombre es Deidara, hn!" the blonde piped up first.

"Sasori," the redhead allowed.

"Who the fuck needs to know?" an albino with striking violet eyes scowled.

"Foul mouth over here is Hidan, and I am Kakuzu," a teen with a mask covering his dark face volunteered.

"Kisame, pleasure's mine," a tall, muscular kid with a skin pigment discoloration nodded amicably.

Itachi furrowed his eyebrows as the "Leader" spoke, "My name is Pain."

"It's a nickname," Konan assured.

Itachi nodded.

"We all have nicknames," she explained, "but wether we use them or not is of discretion. Pain chooses to use his as a volunteered name, to forget."

Itachi nodded once more.

"Do you have a nickname?"

Itachi paused, then shook his head no, as if denying it.

"What is it?"

"I..." Itachi began, then simply muttered, as a means of explanation, "I use mine under discretion as well. I don't use it. My means to forget."

"Ah..." Konan smiled, placing a reassuring hand on the teen's shoulder. "I would like you to come with us today, Itachi. Somewhere, don't ask, alright?"

Itachi looked cautiously at the group, first to the blonde who was playing with his food and teasing the redhead, who seemed to be screwing on his wrist (He figured not to ask), to the foulmouthed albino, to the masked teenager, to the pigmented giant, then to the heavily pierced leader, and in turn back to the blue-haired angel with the reassuring smile. "I can't. I have to pick up my brother from school on my way home. Maybe next time?" He tried with what he hoped was a convincing smile.

"Yes, Itachi. Next time," she assured, her long eyelashes batting like butterfly wings.

Shifting in his seat, Itachi continued to read, feeling strangely at ease surrounded by such odd, eccentric people, almost like having a void filled as he got lost in the words of the Inferno, reading of those who remained trees forever. Itachi looked up again, only to realize the bell had rung, and he was now alone.

* * *

A/N: Excuse my horrible foreign languages. Meanings are, in order:

Italian:

"What is your name, crow?"

"My name is Itachi. How did you know I speak Italian?"

"Garbage. Why didn't we eat before we left home?"

Latin:

"What is your name?"

"Mine is Konan."

Spanish:

"My name is Deidara (hn)!"

thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 2

_Let me go! Itachi! Let me go!_

"I can't..." Itachi muttered to nothing. "I just...I'm sorry, Shisui. I can't."

He held the picture gently in his hands, the waxy paper illuminated gently in Itachi's pale fingers as the light caught Shisui's photographed eyes, giving them a lifelike illumination for Itachi to gaze at. Clawing at the back of his eyes, the tears ached the nerves and threatened to spill. Itachi's heart ached gently as he traced an endearing finger down the outline of Shisui's familiar face.

"I'll never let you go. I won't, ever. I will never forget you, and the ache will never dull. I promise," Itachi whispered, replacing the picture beneath his pillow and turning over to rest in his pillow. "What do you think of those people? Shisui...what should I do? It's stupid...I don't want other friends. You were all I ever needed, all I'll ever need. Ever. You'll always be mine alone. I don't need anyone else. You're here. Always..." Itachi's hand drifted to the back of his neck, closing his eyes peacefully. "Here always. Be here always..." he murmured, before falling asleep.

-o-

"Itachi, good morning."

Itachi nodded to his mother in thanks as he lowered himself into a chair at the kitchen table carefully, a numbness spreading throughout his chest like the roots of a tree of deepseated sorrows, telling himself the lie that he wasn't gone. His mother lay breakfast in front of her oldest son, then turning away to tend to the dishes. Itachi stared at the food with no desire whatsoever, and with no energy to move his hands. He allowed his gaze to drop to his lap, his hands holding onto the opposite arm's sleeve as he held himself silently, wishing that the day would end so he could go back to bed and forget that morning ever came. Itachi had a dull ache in his head that refused to leave him alone and a horrible, anesthesized sort of numbness that throbbed ungratefully, wanting Itachi's life with each beat of a heart that wasn't his own.

Only after his mother left the kitchen did he bow his head to cry.

-o-

Numbness blossomed in his chest as the casket lay no weight on his shoulder, jostled between his uncles, his feet focused on the grass beneath them. He shed no tears as he spoke, barely tuning in to his own words.

"...an incredible person, a straight A student..."

Cries of the women echoed in the summer heat. Wind stirred the stilled and silent.

"...a caring man who would do anything for friends, family..."

No clouds were in sight. Sunlight illuminated tears, grimaces of pain, feelings of loss. Hearts remained empty as he spoke, uplifting words cast aside.

"...and though he will be dearly missed..."

A broken wail. Shisui's mother had cried out.

"And..." Itachi took a deep breath, "though...he will be dearly missed...he was never one to stray."

Itachi could swear he saw something moving among the gravestones just out in the distance. Fixing his gaze on that, he said, "He will be here, with us, always..."

Mikoto wondered through hiccupy sobs where her son wandered off to after that, only to find him among the gravestones, muttering Shisui's name, as if seeking him not far from where he was buried.

-o-

"Please calm down! Shisui!"

"Fuck you! Let me go, Itachi!"

"I can't!"

Shisui paused in his lover's arms, looking up at him with unfocused eyes, his trembling hands reaching up to cup Itachi's cheek.

"You have to..." he rasped out. "Let me go."

-o-

Itachi stirred awake before dawn broke, the room just cold enough to make him curl beneath the covers, his eyes clouded with sleep. He rubbed one with the heel of his hand and turned over, pressing his face into the cool of the pillow, his down comforter pulled up over his clothed shoulder. Itachi waited for a bit, coaxing sleep to come like a frightened kitten to a stranger's hands, finding that it eluded him coldly. Sitting up, he decided against another futile attempt, and instead threw his legs over the side of his bed, recoiling slightly at the cold wood against his feet. He ambled over to the window and, pressing the palms of his hands firmly against the chilly sill, stared out into the night, past the trees and rocks, buildings and homes, to the greedy Nakano, that buried his love in her banks and his hopes in her soils.

-o-

"Salve, amica," he heard behind himself that morning as he reclined in a plastic chair at the table from the previous morning.

"Hello, Konan," he nodded to the Sapphire haired angel who perched herself beside him in a chair that matched her hair, her petticoat showing beneath her pleated black skirt, a large hoodie covering her torso.

"So, will you join us today?"

"I wish I could, but my brother has soccer practice, forgive me."

"Maybe next time?"

Itachi nodded.

-o-

Itachi considered briefly what he had to gain by accompanying the group to wherever they went after school but found no valid reason as he sat beneath a large oak tree, a book in his lap and a water bottle discarded beside him in the summery green grass. He figured he would avoid them, if only to save them the trouble of being rejected. And, he decided, it was troublesome to be asked, if only to reject.

It also entered his mind as to why Konan talks in such a manner. He shrugged it off.

-o-

Safely hidden behind Of Mice and Men, Itachi was assured he wouldn't recieve an invitation from the Sapphire again today, relaxing back into the threadbare sofa in the corner of the library as he perused the well-known pages. He absentmindedly remembered how Shisui always lay his head in Itachi's lap as he read. He missed the loving presence and the well-intentioned chides as Itachi absorbed ancient classics, Shisui himself preferring the extensive graphic novel section of the library. He smiled fondly at the memory, before the sofa shifted with the weight of another.

"You must join us today, Itachi," Konan smiled, brushing her flower-adorned hair out of her peripheral vision.

"I..." Itachi lowered the book. "I'm meeting a friend today, I can't. I'm sorry."

"Excuses, excuses. What friend," she smiled, "Have you?"

"I..."

"I don't mean that in a rude way, Itachi."

"Why do you want me to join you so badly? What purpose would I serve to your little clique, or group, or whatever?"

Konan just smiled. "No purpose."

"What, then?"

"You've lost something precious to you. Some_one_. You're hurting. And you were going to ask that person if you should come with us because you feel as if you're betraying their memory by befriending someone new. Correct?"

"How did you-!"

"No. No questions. How about a bet?"

"Bet?"

Konan nodded, leaning in close to Itachi's face. "I bet three things. One," she held up a respective finger. "Is that I can guess your loss. Deux," she grinned, "Is that you will believe I knew that person, but won't remember I made this bet, you'll be so surprised. And three," she leaned in to his ear, a sad look on her face, even with the smile, "Is that you'll miss them even more when you get to our base."

Itachi consented with a sigh. Suddenly, though, Konan leaned in, grabbing his face and pressing her lips to his. Itachi drew back in shock.

"You kiss with reluctance and bitterness. It was a lover. Male. A close friend, by the way you drew back. You were hurt by him, though you obviously still love him. He committed suicide, didn't he?"

"O...oh my...God, how did you even...?"

Konan smiled sadly. "I have a history with reading human actions," she traced a hand down his cheek softly, betraying her happy grin for sentimentality. "You're surprised."

"Yes."

"Meet me by the flagpole after school. You'll be sad once you get to base. But don't worry. Most people do. All of them said there was familiarity in the walls. You'll see it, too. I'll see you after school."

And, despite himself, Itachi showed up after school.

* * *

A/N: Very obscure chap. All will be revealed soon, my friends. Enjoy


	4. Chapter 3

The group of teenagers who had sat with him on the first day were now around the flagpole, some smiling, most not, but all watching Konan as she twirled around the metal rod, spinning shamelessly like a stripper with her leg hooked up high and a brilliant smile on her face. Her petticoat hid any and everything from sight teasingly, and she laughed joyously as Hidan slipped a dollar bill into her bra strap, which was visible now that she had removed her jacket, the thin lace on her spaghetti strap tank top far too little to hide it. She noticed the confused teen with long dark hair standing a distance away and she motioned for him to come over, lowering her leg and instead leaning against the pole she had danced on.

"Hey, Itachi!" she called, waving carelessly, her laberet glinting in the afternoon sun.

"I still think he looks like a girl," Hidan muttered, raking his hand through his hair then smoothing it back, patting down any frays.

"Well, yeah, 'cause he basically is!" Konan smiled again.

"What do you mean by that?" Kisame asked cautiously.

"He's a hermaphrodite, duh," Hidan cackled, cut down with a swift kick to the knee.

"No! No, no, dumb idiot," Konan scolded. "Are you, Itachi?"

Itachi blinked twice. "I..."

"See? He is."

"Is not."

"I'm not a hermaphrodite," Itachi said plainly, deadpanning his art.

"Told you..." Konan smiled. "C'mon, let's get going."

"Leader, you're gonna have a freaking heat stroke if you keep wearin' your hoodie in such hot weather," Hidan pointed out.

"I'm perfectly fine, you need not concern yourself with me. It's Kisame I'm worried about. He's like a fish out of water," Itachi noticed Pain smirk as everyone laughed, Kisame included.

"Kisame grew up next to the ocean," Konan explained. "He moved here recently."

"Ah," Itachi said, accepting the explanation.

They walked for a good fifteen minutes, luckily though most of the path was shaded by trees. The building was next to a large river, deep and slightly disturbed. Itachi flinched quietly, noticing them step calmly towards it as if they wouldn't fall in. Itachi stopped dead, noticing how Pain walked across the river without sinking, almost on top of the water.

"Is he...?" Itachi mumbled incredulously, noticing Konan giggling at him.

"No, no, look," Konan motioned after everyone had crossed, pulling him over to the water by his wrist and pointing down into the flowing murky river. She pressed his hand to something solid suddenly, and Itachi knew.

"Rocks?"

"Mmhmm. Pain first made the bridge when we discovered this place. Luckily they've never moved."

"Ah," Itachi nodded in understanding.

"After you," Konan notioned with a tilt of her head, her blue hair shifting slightly, rose adorning the sapphire locks easing with gravity.

"Okay..." Itachi stepped out gently, his hands out beside him as he tried to balance.

"They're relatively flat, so it shouldn't be too hard," Konan followed behind him, standing as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Itachi noticed that she really did look as if she was walking on water.

Managing to cross without any sort of embarassing incidents, Itachi noticed the hideout was two-stories high, and looked to be an abandoned house. He wondered off-handedly if anyone had died here. Konan ushered him inside, however, to see three mismatched and overstuffed couches occupied with a few of the members, beer bottles in hand and various openers across the old coffee table. Shoes were strewn across the room and bottles fizzed from being shaken up, smiles etched on everyone's faces. Konan slipped a frothing beer bottle into Itachi's hand and raised her own.

"To Itachi!"

"To Itachi!" resonated throughout the room, much to his surprise, smiles and gestures of welcome resonating. Even their solemn "Leader" had an amicable smile on his pierced lips, nodding to him with his drink raised.

"Drink up, Itachi. Everybody is welcome here," Konan kissed his ear, pulling him over to a sofa with incredibably squishy cushions, bringing him down with her next to Deidara, who smiled and proceeded to reminisce on the "Old days" before they were all Akatsuki. All of their stories were different, all incredible in their own way, but all lacking details profusely, large holes in their stories leaving gaps in their facades, their smiles true but backed and supported on pain and distrust. But here, everyone looked happy, amber bottles in hands with painted nails and fingers of all colors, smiles on all shades of lips, some hidden, some pierced. Bodies of all shapes and sizes meshed together on overstuffed couches, laughing and shoving jovially, no differences; they were all equal, all friends.

Itachi felt something sting at the back of his eyes when an arm was slung around his shoulder and he meshed into the comfort of family for the first time since Shisui's death.

-O-

Hidan reclined against the headboard in the upstairs room, blanket barely covering his naked torso as he mumbled, "So what's the deal with Itachi and his old boyfriend anyways? He still hasen't gotten over it?"

Konan layed herself down on Hidan's chest, smiling as her bare breasts pressed against him, crossing her arms and resting her chin on them. "Itachi and Shisui are practically paronymous. They root from the same word 'Love'. Shisui is 'love' while Itachi is 'lovely' or 'lovable'. Mostly, though, Shisui is the essence of 'love', while Itachi is 'unloved'."

Hidan shrugged slightly, "So he's kinda a loner?"

"Yeah. He'll warm up to you, though, I'm sure."

"Heh. Wonder if he's a masochist. Sure is cute, though. I'd do him."

"You'd do anyone, dork," Konan hit him lightly on the chest, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"I guess I'm just a bit of a whore," Hidan laughed, turning them over so he lay on top of Konan as she wrapped her arms around his neck, murmuring her consent gently as he kissed her.

-O-

"Itachi!" he heard his name called as he slid his AP History book into his messenger bag, recognizing the slight accent.

He turned to see Konan, who ran into his arms effortlessly, kissing him on the cheek.

"Woah, Uchiha, going out with the deaf slut?" he heard chided behind them, and turned to see a brown-haired teen with a horrible sneer chide them. "Guess freaks stick together, huh?"

Suddenly, an Albino came up behind him, tapping him on the shoulder. Konan smiled slightly, relaxing into Itachi's arms.

"I'm gonna need you to come with me," Hidan said calmly, pulling the boy away.

"Did you have a good day?" Konan smiled, swaying gently in his arms despite Itachi's diverted attention.

"What's he gonna do...?" Itachi asked worriedly.

"Just teach him a little lesson, don't worry about it," Konan gestured as if sweeping away his worries, tracing her finger down Itachi's eye, making him close it gently. He suddenly found he forgot about the boy and hesitantly wrapped his arms around the sapphire angel pressed against his chest with some encouragement from her. "So? Your day. How was it?"

"Oh...it was fine. I have a test next week, but that's the extent of it. I had salad for lunch," Itachi laughed. "What about yours?" they began to walk down the hallway.

"A blast. I aced my pop quiz on trigonometry, I danced with Deidara at lunch, and we were talking about you."

"Me?" Itachi stopped. "Why me?"

"No reason..."

Itachi's eyebrow twitched, feeling insulted. "Why would you talk about me behind my back? I thought you guys were different."

"Nothing bad! Never anything bad about you. We were debating wether we could trust you," Konan ran back, pulling him close to her, petting his hair gently. "Wether we could convince you to join Akatsuki. I think it's a good idea. But it's up to you."

Itachi stopped again.

"I...think that's a bit fast. This is all a bit fast, isn't it?"

"I suppose you could think that way..." Konan looked a bit downcast, her lips turning down slightly at the corners. "But you can take all the time you need. We'll always be there for you. Think of what Shisui would want," she turned away from him, her plaid skirt bouncing lightly as she walked away.

"Did you know him?" Itachi called after her.

Konan turned on her heel. "No...But I can see so much of him in you."

Itachi blinked, then chased after her, walking along with her as they left the school.

-O-


	5. Chapter 4

"You didn't cry," Konan said simply as they ate, reaching for Itachi's bottle of Coke.

"I drank out of that," he said matter-of-factly as she unscrewed the lid.

"So?" she said simply, drinking straight from it, getting an odd look from the crow-haired teen as she smiled around the mouth of the bottle. "Doesn't bother me."

Itachi only shook his head dismissively, focusing back on his textbook. Konan's bright blue eyebrow promptly twitched, shutting the book, earning a frustrated growl from the crow-haired teen. "What are you doing that for anyways?"

Itachi simply opened the book again, only to have Konan close it again with a, "Stoppit."

"I'm trying to study."

"You're smart enough," Konan closed the book once more.

"I-"

"Neh. Shush. Book. Up."

"But-"

"Up!"

Itachi scowled slightly, putting the book away despite himself. Konan giggled lightly, cooing out a thank you happily as a bubbly smile erupted on her petal-colored lips. His heart gave a light flutter when his attention fell on her lovely little smile, immediately forgiving her acedemic tresspasses as he fought the urge to touch her pale cheek gently.

As if she read his mind, a cold, pale hand grasped his, bringing it up to her face and leaning into it. She pressed a gentle kiss to his palm, just as Shisui used to, watching his stoic expression fail suddenly as tears gathered in his recognitive eyes.

She only smiled that gentle, all-knowing smlie as she met his eyes.

-o-

"Don't be afraid of your memories, Itachi," Konan advised as she skipped across the stones in the river, her lacy black skirt bouncing as she did, her pale white legs bare along with her delicate ballerina's feet, nails painted a beautiful black that contrasted perfectly with her white flesh. A silver toe ring was on her left ring toe, engraved elegantly, fitting securely. "Fearing your past isn't very tasteful. Forgetting it, though. That's the key. But you don't wanna forget him, do you?"

Itachi looked up from his spot on the grassy bank, his knees drawn up loosely, his elbows resting on them as he watched her. "Not really."

"Not really? No, then?"

Itachi bit his lip contemplatively, then muttered, "No."

"You're still head-over-heels, aren't you?"

Itachi nodded.

Konan smiled sweetly. "How are you with trust?"

"Trust...?" Itachi murmured incredulously. "Why?"

"Because. You're sweet. And I like you. A lot."

"Aren't you with..."

"Pain? Yes. And Hidan. And occasionally Zetsu. And I like them all, too."

Itachi raised his eyebrow. "Polygamist?"

"No. Affectionate."

"I don't know if Shisui would even like that."

"Shisui?" Konan smiled in a way that made her eyes crinkle. "You're amusing, 'tachi."

Itachi stood suddenly, yelling, "Shut up! Quit talking like him! How do you even know what he talks like?! You're...you're lying. You knew him."

"No. I told you, dumb," Konan skipped carelessly across the rocks, practically floating as she jabbed Itachi in the forehead with a quick poke, fast like a cobra strike. "I can see him in you. I can see the way you quirk your head that tells me the way he would talk to you in such a moment. I can see the way you lean back when people come forward because they're not you. I see the way you touch your forehead inadvertantly when you think nobody's looking. I can see how he would kiss your palm in the way you looked at my lips when you touched my face," Konan wrapped her delicate spider's fingers around Itachi's dangling hand, bringing it back up to her pale cheek. "See? Your eyes."

Konan gently kissed his palm once more, returning it to the previous spot. "You're pretty," she smiled, muttering softly in that odd way of hers. "Prettier than I can ever be. Your soul outmatches mine. You have deep eyes. Like a river. He drowned himself."

Itachi's eyes flew open, fluttering.

"Like I said...I can read people. I can read you like a book. With small but all-there print. A book that most people don't bother to pick up and don't bother to put down. You're hurting," her hazel eyes glimmered gently. "You're really very pretty. I can see how much he loved you."

In a swift, unreadable motion, she has his sleeve pushed up to his elbows. He tried to back away, but couldn't quite escape her iron grip as she smiled affectionatly at the scars on his arms, caressing along the indentions sweetly. "I can see how much you loved him, too."

"Let. Go," Itachi gritted out through his teeth, realizing how blatant his emotions were in front of a girl who could tell what he was thinking just by the way he blinked.

"I like that you're letting me see you now."

Itachi jerked his arm away. "You infuriate me."

"I'm glad," she smiled. "That's a good thing. Expressing your anger towards somebody is a way to show you're comfortable with them. Comfortable with letting them know how you feel. I've seen you before, Itachi. You don't speak. You glance. But that's very hard to read. We have an instant connection. Because I know how you feel. And, somehow, you know how I do. You know I understand you. So let me in," she reached around to cup his cheek, pulling him to face her. "Let me in, Itachi. You know he doesn't want you to be alone."

"Maybe this isn't about what he wants right now, Konan," Itachi said quietly, pulling his hand from her grasp. "Maybe it's about me this time."

Konan watched Itachi as he turned, walking away.

-o-


End file.
